


I can't believe Dean and Cas made out

by lizbobjones



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ... it's basically entirely about them making out twice at once, M/M, This was not an excuse to write a gratuitously long scene of them making out or anything like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9283847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizbobjones/pseuds/lizbobjones
Summary: Dean and Cas made out





	

“I can’t believe Dean and Cas made out.”

Cas shrunk back from walking into the library at the sound of Sam’s voice – for very good reasons.

He heard the unconvinced noise Mary made as she shrugged before replying. “It broke the spell and saved the town – it’s not hard to believe they’d do it… For the greater good.”

Sam still sounded agitated although Cas agreed with Mary – and he should know better than them about it. “No, Mom, we were all in the room. All the ritual asked for was a kiss… I mean what if all we needed to do was something like me giving you a peck on the cheek? It was a vaguely phrased spell.”

“I suppose so…”

Sam had gone into full ranting mode – “And – even if it _had_ to be a kiss on the mouth – Cas could have kissed any of us. There were options. He could have kissed you, or, well, he was standing right next to me when Dean read the thing out, and a lot of people were going to die really soon. I’d take one for the team.”

“Are you going somewhere with this?” Mary sounded far more amused than Cas had expected. He supposed the kiss might have broken the ice – with time it had become something they could laugh about, at least when he and Dean weren’t in the room; they had a little more reason to be haunted by it.

Sam, though, seemed to be giving Cas a run for his money on that front. “Just – if I was gonna kiss Cas to save a ton of people and break a spell – in front of my entire family – I think I’d be fine with smushing our lips together and checking out the corner of my eye to see if the glowing orb on the altar had turned off again… Maybe chance some tongue if it hadn’t…”

“You _have_ given this a lot of thought.”

Cas smiled to himself at Mary’s teasing tone. He did agree with Sam that if they had to kiss for the greater good, it wouldn’t be so terrible… If, of course, not for…

“I’m sorry, but it’s driving me crazy.”

“That they kissed?”

“No… But I mean, I still need brain bleach after what I saw. I’m working through the trauma. They were knocking books off the altar. Cas had his knee on it. Dean had fistfuls of trenchcoat. I know you were kind of concussed at the time, but do you remember how many times I had to clear my throat and tell them it was over and they could stop making out? I’ve _suffered_.”

There was an awkward pause, or at least, to Cas, as he spent it fighting a surprise blush, the heat of that moment returning to him fiercely, though he’d tried to put it out of his mind. Then Mary cleared her throat.

“Are they –?”

“ _No_. And that’s what’s killing me. You don’t know how long I’ve been dealing with their UST.”

Cas rolled his eyes at that, just on the principle of if they had been able to see him.

“Trust me,” Sam continued, “Our lives would all have run a lot smoother if they’d got their crap together immediately. And, also, they have the collective emotional intuitiveness of a tank of goldfish. They’d never be able to hide it long if they had… They just… Make so much _drama_ all the time. I have a feeling we’d find out some way or another.”

Mary made an odd snorting noise trying to contain laughter aimed at her own child, while Cas bristled at the totally unfounded accusations.

“I think they’ll be okay,” she said. “Perhaps they’ll work it out in their own time.”

“Mom, no. It’s been three months since they made out, and they haven’t talked about it. I can tell.”

“How?”

“How? They make just being in a room with them unbearable, ever since, with all the side-glances and sighing. I mean it – I can’t believe they made out because it didn’t fix _anything_. We’re living in a world where Cas shoved Dean against the nearest piece of furniture and kissed him so hard he could barely stand after, and nothing happened. We had that one long awkward drive back – and thanks for sleeping through it and leaving me to enjoy that pained small talk – then the next day it’s all back to normal like it never happened. Except for Cas’s sighing and Dean’s stammering, and how they always keep getting coffee to bring to the other so they’re carrying mugs all over the Bunker and not bringing them back to the kitchen…”

Cas glanced guiltily down at the mugs of now cold coffee in his hands.

“And you’re sure they’re not… Together?” Mary sounded nervous of even voicing the concept, but at least not openly disapproving. Small mercies.

“I know Dean, when he has a secret. He gets really weird about everything. I could accuse him of using up the milk and putting the empty bottle back in the fridge and he’d take the moral high ground asking, _well what about_ your _secret angel boyfriend_ or something. And Cas… I think he’d look happier.”

That brought a longer and more contemplative pause from Mary. “Is there anything we can do?” she asked.

He had heard enough – or didn’t want to hear what they’d plan for him and Dean. Cas slipped away back to the kitchen to wash up the mugs and get fresh coffee.

*

Cas wished he wasn’t giving Sam the satisfaction, but another two weeks passed while he mulled over what he had heard. In a way, implausible though it felt, he’d almost stopped thinking about the kiss of death spell, and how they had broken it. It was the change between Dean and himself that was more troubling…

Sam was also right that they hadn’t talked about it. That long car ride after, he had wondered for hours how this would change things between Dean and himself. The answer was not a lot, really. He wasn’t asked to leave, or invited into Dean’s bedroom, or any extreme reaction Cas could have expected. Of course he had healed Mary’s concussion as soon as the danger had been over, but the next day after getting home, when it seemed like old news, Dean had immediately found another case as his morning greeting, along with a suggestion Mary stay back to rest up and Cas to look after her.

They’d watched daytime TV and Mary hadn’t commented on how absorbed in the kiss Cas had been. Cas wondered long and hard if he should ask her for advice, but even he knew that was a strange and uncomfortable position to put her in. So things went unsaid, and Dean kept finding reasons to drag Sam or Mary off on quick and easy salt and burns, or send one of them with Cas, and so he grew more and more certain that Dean was avoiding him.

Things were easier after the first month, and Dean stayed home a few more days at a time, as well as working with Cas again though with a buffer of Sam or Mary with them… It seemed like Dean had forgotten after the second month, and finally started hanging around Cas more and having fun like they used to. There was an uneasy tension still, an uncertainty in the way he spoke to him. A nervous buzz between them if they were left alone unexpectedly.

Cas didn’t like the change, but he hadn’t known what to do about it until he heard the disbelief in Sam’s voice as he said, “I can’t believe Dean and Cas made out.”

It took all of those two weeks, though.

*

Finally, Cas found the Bunker mostly deserted, Dean at the map table, reading, and Cas himself bringing coffee.

“Oh, hey Cas,” Dean said, as if genuinely surprised to see him. Alarmed, perhaps. That edge of nervousness to everything between them was already present.

Cas put the coffees down and watched Dean smile gratefully. It was late for humans with normal circadian rhythms. Dean seemed far from turning in, reading something from one of the big Men of Letters tomes of lore with no real urgency, as they were between cases and drastic end of the world problems.

“Uh,” Dean said after a moment, risking a glance up at Cas. “You planning on lurking there all night?”

Cas continued standing still but more intentionally. When Dean was shifting uncomfortably from the suspense, Cas finally broke the silence. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Who died?” Dean said, sarcastically, so Cas assumed his tone of voice was being mocked, not that Dean was waiting for bad news.

“No one – I… I was thinking about the kiss.”

Dean’s eyes flickered wide with surprise – perhaps a fraction of a second of a fond smile, before his bashfulness disappeared into the more familiar guarded expression that Cas had been expecting.

“Well… Yeah, same, but do you see me running around chatting about it with everyone?” Dean had shrunk back down, and Cas felt almost guilty to unsettle him like that. Almost. This was getting ridiculous.

“I wanted to talk _because_ it’s frustrating. Do you really want to live the rest of your life pretending that it didn’t happen?”

Dean looked away, picked up his coffee and put it down again immediately. “I just… Wanted to wait for a better time to, you know…” He gestured vaguely at Cas, who scowled harder at him. Dean huffed out a sigh in defeat. “To recreate the exact make out session but without Mom and Sam there.”

“They’re not here now.”

Dean looked around, at the doors, into the library, up at the balcony. Cas felt reasonably sure he could sense both in their rooms, asleep or at least sequestered away at the end of the day.

“No, I guess not,” Dean agreed. He looked caught out, but less and less reluctant in the face of Cas obstinately standing there waiting for a response he wanted – and that he knew from Dean’s passionate response last time, he wanted too.

Dean pushed back his chair and stood, an action that had him abruptly swaying into Cas’s space. “Can’t believe I’m going to make out with you,” he muttered, as Cas reached out to place a hand on Dean’s cheek, as cautiously as he’d done that day at the site of the spell.

Dean had made the next move, leaning forward to seal their lips together, so Cas waited, as Dean leaned into his touch, eyes dropping closed. Instead of making a move, he let out a soft breath, as if letting go of the last of his resistance, and allowing himself to enjoy the touch and the closeness. It was much slower, more gently than that urgent rush to save the town, a ticking time bomb waiting for their lips to meet. Dean had grabbed Cas by the tie, tugged him closer with the same fierceness he fought with, and kissed him with a certainty that it was what needed to be done…

Not that making out with Cas could have been an unwanted side effect of saving everyone, but now, when they had time, Dean reached for him like he was a mirage in the desert that would disappear when his hands passed through the seemingly real image in front of him. Dean ended up holding the lapels of Cas’s coat, gathering them into tight fists and clutching the fabric apparently just to hold it for a long time before he gave in and pulled.

Cas let Dean fall into him, lips meeting lips, gentle and pressing a dozen small kisses to test the waters, stopping to marvel at each other that they’d broken such a long and fraught silence – not just between the Kiss of Death spell and now, but all the time they’d spent avoiding mentioning whatever it was between them before that. Dean’s eyes were full of awe, and Cas didn’t even stop to remember the original kisses, to replicate how he pulled Dean closer, now securing him against him with a hand in his hair, holding it tight enough that Dean wouldn’t move away even if he wanted to.

The glowing orb on the altar had already lost its shine and sunk harmlessly back onto the table at this point, the threat clearly over, but Dean had suddenly lost all inhibitions, like the kiss had wiped from his mind any thoughts that weren’t about the next kiss… Going from powerful kisses to indulgent, hungry… His mouth hot as he pushed his tongue deep into Cas’s mouth, drew back to tease Cas’s lower lip between his teeth before he really let go and grinned up at Cas. Dean had years of kissing experience, knowing just how to wind up his partner and leave them desperate for the next kiss, but then as now, Cas wasn’t going to let Dean run away with it – the thought of the spell, the orb, the others in the room, had left him behind too, and he’d wanted to kiss the smirk off Dean’s face…

Now it was a dazed, happy smile, Dean pulling away from Cas to bite his own lip, as if tasting it for confirmation that it had been against Cas’s mouth. Though they were lost in the moment, it was one of calm, and understanding, and Dean looked at Cas like he could barely believe this was happing, not just awe but relief in his eyes. Then he laughed, which hadn’t happened at all at the altar; there had been no time, not with Cas grabbing him by the front of his t-shirt, scrabbling to pull him in with a fist in his hair, so Dean stumbled into him, and with his knees buckling and his hands failing to get purchase on Cas’s coat at his shoulders, they’d stumbled against the altar and –

Dean laughed harder, clutching at Cas’s shoulders, falling forward again to laugh against Cas’s neck, pressing kisses slowly from under his ear to his collarbone – Cas could feel Dean working his tie loose, and was lost in marvelling at Dean’s sudden change to tender and gentle. It broke the script of their previous kiss, left Cas feeling uncertain to do more than slide a hand through Dean’s hair up from the back of his neck, letting Dean’s hair slide between his fingers, a promise he could grip harder, but that he wasn’t yet. Dean shivered at the touch, breath hot against Cas’s neck where he had left wet kisses.

“Cas –”

“Yes?”

“We were really stupid to leave it this long to try again.”

Cas felt Dean’s lips turn to the crook of his neck again, nuzzling against it, then licking curiously, a hand skating up to cup Cas’s neck on the other side so he could push more insistent kisses there… Cas dropped his head back and closed his eyes, reaching blindly for the table beside them as Dean pushed Cas back; he stumbled into it, suddenly realising the roles had reversed from his desperate push back at Dean that had left him leaning back across the altar, pushing books and spell ingredients and candles aside as, lost in the intensity of their first kisses. He remembered the feeling of his coat pulling almost to tear at the seams on the shoulders as Dean grabbed at the back of it – made Cas think that if there were no layers between them Deans hands would have been kneading the bare flesh of his back… He’d pushed against Dean, feeling the hardness between his legs, been rewarded with a groan and Dean trying to hook a leg around Cas, to pull them back onto the altar, and Cas had been desperate to follow…

Back then, Sam clearing his throat had been enough to pull Cas back to reality, to try and disentangle himself from a Dean who was far too addled to put himself back in the scene for a moment, and then so embarrassed he’d gaped around at everyone for a moment and then walked straight out of the room…

That had all flowed too quickly from Cas and Dean instinctively turning to the other when they realised what broke the spell, the sureness and unspoken agreement they wanted to try.

Now, Dean kept stopping to smile dazedly at Cas before leaning in to steal another kiss. He’d worked Cas’s tie loose, but after that changed course to run his hand through Cas’s hair with a determination to mess it up but no… forward momentum. Cas knew he was fairly close to an immovable object if he wanted to be, but he was leaning slackly into Dean’s embrace and he was still barely pushed up against the table after several minutes of exchanging kisses, and the memory of the previous time was haunting him, a moment they had to pass and recreate for themselves in a way that worked out…

It was pleasant though, having Dean leant against him almost like they’d been dancing, murmuring pleased disbelief into Cas’s shoulder – not that he couldn’t believe Cas liked him, but that they’d somehow managed to act on it.

Cas led the way into the next kiss, pushing at Dean gently at first, exploring how much Dean would let him lead, in case it had been a fluke at the altar that Dean had been swept away so completely. The answer was that he shuddered pleasurably at Cas taking hold of his waist and stepping back into Dean’s space with a fierceness to his kisses. Dean melted into it, pressing himself firmly against Cas. Cas pushed back, and in moments he had Dean sitting on the table – his chair knocked over, the sound of a cup smashing on the floor ignored as Cas slid his hands down from Dean’s shoulders, along his back and past his waist, to lift Dean against him. Dean moaned loudly enough for him to freeze and listen.

“It’s okay, it’s just us. This time it’s just us,” Cas murmured, and stole Dean’s lips before he could argue.

Instead he pulled at Cas until he stumbled against Dean and the table, not sure what Dean was doing until Dean pulled him into a controlled fall; Dean scrambled back to let Cas clamber on top of him, books and instruments from the map table falling to the floor. Cas looked down at Dean and found him grinning up at him, flushed and out of breath and reaching for Cas’s shirt buttons.

“You do have a room,” Cas reminded him.

“I know,” Dean said. “You’ve left me hanging with thoughts about tables for _months_.”

Cas couldn’t argue with that, and leaned down to continue the make out session.

*

Eventually, Cas did lead Dean back to his own bed; morning came and Cas escaped Dean’s sleeping vice grip when the sun was barely up somewhere beyond the protective wall of the Bunker, to tidy up the chaos from the night.

Some things couldn’t be fixed though – an hour or so later Sam stumbled into the kitchen, yawning, and stopped short at the stack of glasses moved next to the coffee machine. He shuffled around to squint at Dean, sitting on the end of the table (Cas absolutely not paying him any attention despite the enticing set up) and Sam’s eyes finally found the whiskey glass Dean was holding that contained a suspiciously coffee-like liquid.

“Where are all the mugs?”

“Yeah, Cas finally smashed the entire set,” Dean said, and took another sip of coffee. Cas, leaning on the kitchen island, averted his eyes as Sam turned to look at him, and then back to Dean.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you two finally made out.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I can't believe Dean and Cas are STILL making out!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300311) by [MittenWraith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/pseuds/MittenWraith)




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